


hold me closer

by alpacasandravens



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Asexual Jonathan Crane, Cuddling, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, sex-repulsed jonathan crane, soft, the fluffy cuddling fic i need in this trying time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:20:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23781493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpacasandravens/pseuds/alpacasandravens
Summary: Night was softer, a time when Jonathan took off the mask he wore at all other times and lay beside Jervis in bed and Jervis wished he could express how much he felt for Jonathan.They cuddle. Jervis says "I love you" an absurd amount of times.
Relationships: Jonathan Crane/Jervis Tetch
Comments: 2
Kudos: 69





	hold me closer

**Author's Note:**

> I do not care if they're in character. quarantine has got me LONELY and i needed to write cuddles.

There wasn’t any sort of a routine in Jerome’s plan. And even if there had been, it was far too soon to fall into one. Jerome, Jonathan, and Jervis had broken out of Arkham, along with their legion of distractions, four days ago. In that time, Jonathan had menaced the mayor into giving them a rather nice house to stay in, Jerome had killed his uncle, and Jervis had hypnotized some information out of a school superintendent. 

But work was only during the day. At night, Jerome snuck off with Firefly to set off firecrackers and commit other mild acts of arson. Penguin retreated to his manor to drink wine, complain about Jerome’s recklessness and the future of Gotham, and miss Edward Nygma. Jervis lay in bed with Jonathan.

Though it had only been four days, this was what Jervis didn’t think he would ever get used to. It wasn’t anything physical - Jervis had asked once, months ago, if he could kiss Jonathan, and Jonathan had glared at him until he apologized, though he still wasn’t sure why. He hadn’t asked again. Their relationship, as it was, had lasted a few months, and it had meant Jonathan sat slightly closer to him than anyone else, close enough that their sides touched. It meant they held hands sometimes, and that when he was tired Jonathan would occasionally rest his head on Jervis’s shoulder.

When they’d transferred their base of operations from the Arkham violent criminals’ wing common area to Penguin’s provided house, Jervis hadn’t expected that to change, even if he ached from how badly he wanted Jonathan near him. On the first night though, just before sunrise, Jonathan had opened the door to Jervis’s room.

“I’m staying here now,” he’d said. He crawled into bed, perched on the very edge so they were not touching, and promptly fell asleep.

In the morning, he’d woken up slightly farther away from the edge of the bed, likely having shifted to not fall off. His foot, which was freezing, brushed against Jervis’s leg. He didn’t draw his leg away. Jonathan reached out and carefully circled Jervis’s wrist with his fingers, thumb over the pulse point. 

Jonathan raised his eyebrows in an expression clearly meant to ask permission. Jervis didn’t know what he was asking permission for, but he said “Of course” with the slight desperation that came from the indescribable feeling of want in his chest.

Jonathan nodded. He let go of Jervis’s wrist only to lace their fingers together and rolled over so that he was halfway on top of Jervis. His right leg was slung over Jervis’s left, his arm stretched across Jervis’s body, and his face buried in his neck. 

“‘M goin’ back to sleep,” he mumbled. 

And Jervis still wanted, an ache deep in his chest that told him that he should hold Jonathan tighter until Jonathan’s body sank through his ribs into his own. That ache was battling for space with a soaring feeling, a giddiness that commanded the same thing over a self-awareness that repeated “I love him. I love him. I love him.”

Three nights later, Jonathan no longer needed to start on the outside of the bed before slowly moving toward Jervis, who thought his heart and lungs had been replaced by that swelling feeling of adoration that hadn’t gone away. His task today had been with Jonathan, and Jervis had felt nothing but pride and a pure shot of possessiveness as he’d watched Jonathan fear gas people until they lay screaming on the floor. 

In that moment, he wanted so many things, and through them all his clear thought was “Jonathan.” If kissing (and more) hadn’t been strictly prohibited months ago, he would have become significantly distracted.

But that was earlier. Night was softer, a time when Jonathan took off the mask he wore at all other times and lay beside Jervis in bed and Jervis wished he could express how much he felt for Jonathan. As far as Jervis knew, only he and Jerome had seen Jonathan without the mask. The fact that he took it off nearly as soon as he entered the room meant a level of trust Jervis was sure he didn’t fully understand.

Now, they lay facing each other, foreheads not touching because Jonathan didn’t like it when they were too close and his eyes started to cross. Jonathan’s hair fell in his eyes, and the only reason Jervis’s didn’t was that he braided it before bed, a practice he would never admit to anyone. 

“Have I ever told you you’re beautiful?” 

Jonathan’s eyes narrowed in clear disbelief. 

“You are.” Jervis moved his hand from where it had been tangled with Jonathan’s to cup the his face. “Your mind is beautiful.” His thumb slowly swiped across Jonathan’s cheekbone. “You are as well, mask or no.”

Jonathan’s face turned a fantastic shade of red and he averted his eyes as he muttered “Thank you,” and, so quietly Jervis could barely hear, “you are too.”

Jervis grabbed Jonathan’s hand again, bringing it to his mouth. He kissed the back of it and said “I love you.” 

It was silent. Jonathan was clearly thinking hard. Suddenly, he practically launched himself at Jervis, pulling him as close as possible and tucking his head over Jervis’s shoulder. 

“I love you,” Jervis said again, pressing a kiss into the side of Jonathan’s head. 

“Your mustache tickles.”

“Is it bothersome?” Jervis did not want to shave off what he considered such glorious facial hair, but he would if Jonathan asked him to.

“No.”

Jonathan held him tighter until Jervis almost couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. He didn’t speak, but Jervis could feel a smile spread across Jonathan’s face where it pressed into his neck every time Jervis murmured “I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> if you enjoyed comments and kudos make my day!!


End file.
